Cross my heart in iron
by headwig1010
Summary: Prussia swore to Holy Rome that he would protect him ,Untill the day he dies. He just didn't imagine that day would be so soon. Hre/ Germany theory. Based of a CMV by vandettA cosplay.
1. a unwanted brother

A/n this fic is based of the awesome CMV by vandettA cosplay until the day I die so all credit goes to them. I suggest watching the CMV or this will make little sense so please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia of vandettA cosplay because that's illegal

Prussia had never really liked children, far too noisy and bothersome in his option. Really all a child would do in his life was put a damper on his awesomeness.

So suffice to say Prussia was far from happy when he became saddled with the Holy Roman Empire, his new little brother. For god's sake he was a warrior not a babysitter.

At first he had mostly ignored the little brat (as Prussia so affectionately named him). The boy mostly keep himself in his chambers anyway, in fact Prussia hardly ever saw him.

Not that he was complaining, the last thing a knight like him needed was a blubbering child following him round like a lost puppy. This brought Prussia to a rather damming question. _What was he meant to do with the boy?_

Sadly the boy was not a warrior by any means and in Prussia's eyes this made him practically useless. Prussia after all lived for war, he just happens to have a bit of land to his name.

The boy on the other hand was shy and withdrawn, his blood did not sing for battle like his brother's did. For this reason Prussia mocked the boy, called him a snivelling coward in an attempt to goad some violent reaction from the child.

But all he got was tears and the echo of a slamming door as the boy fled. And for the first time in many centuries Prussia felt a sliver of guilt in is heart.

_What's wrong with me? I'm not even fond of the boy….. Am I? _


	2. a bridge built of oak

A/n woo chapter two today we actually see a scene from the CMV. Thanks again vendetta cosplay for your awesome CMV. If you haven't seen it go watch like now.

Disclaimer: really… it's kinda obvious

I knew he'd be here. It was the place the boy would always go if he was troubled. While I would take out all of my anger and aggression on the wooden training dummies or any man foolish enough to spar with me; he would sit beneath the old oak tree and read.

Warriors do not read. Of course I know how to, even the awesome me occasionally gets lumbered with paper work.

However I always considered the practise of reading for leisure a womanly pass time. A warrior should spend every waking moment honing himself for the next battle.

The boy did not hear my approach; he was too absorbed in his book to notice. I stood thinking for a second (I wasn't hesitating, a warrior never hesitates). After a moment I decided to nudge the boys' leg gently….well as gently as I can manage.

The boy gave a start and his tear stained face shot up to meet mine. He seemed to shrink into himself, holding the book up like a shield. He looked so young and vulnerable. I felt my cold façade melt a little.

"Hey kid" he didn't respond, he just appeared to curl into himself even more. "Listen kid I'm only gonna say this once…I'm sorry".

The boy looked a little shocked and even dropped his book. "R-really you mean it?". "Yes and if you tell anyone I string you up on this tree faster than you can say awesome".

The boy gave small chuckle and Prussia nudged his leg again. That got him a gentle kick in return. "All right don't let it go to your head kid I'll see you at dinner". Prussia turned and walked a few steps before a quiet voice stopped him. "Mr Prussia c-can I ask you something" Prussia gave a small sigh "sure kid fire away". The boy blushed a little and in a shy voice asked quietly "could you read to me please?"

Prussia was about to laugh the boy off but by god that kid could sure do puppy eyes. Feeling his resolve crack he sighed again and sat down next to the boy. "All-right one story". Holy Rome smiled happily and snuggled next to Prussia. "Just one dammit"

Three hours later after several cries of "just one more" holy Rome had fallen asleep. Prussia glanced down at the boy now sleeping against him and felt a small smile creep up on his face.

_Dam kid's making me soft._


	3. a book judged by slience

a/n hi guys sorry it's been so long one word exams…. So I need to clear a few things up due to the flash back nature of the cmv the chapters will flash between past/present and back again however it should be obvious when it does. This is a short filler chapter for the scene where Germany is reading on the sofa

West's reading again. It's all he seems to do nowadays, read and sign papers. I hate it. Holy Rome never had to sign papers that always fell to me, his guardian. He could just read innocently out loud he'd never learnt to keep all those ideas in his mind; they would just flow out into words.

Of course I took no joy in hearing him read who do you think I am? That stupid aristocrat? I only corrected his pronunciation so he wouldn't show me up in public. Not like I cared anyway and there was no way his face looked cute in any shape or form when he couldn't make out a word nor was it cute when he fell asleep in my arms the book falling closed in his lap, not cute at all.

West doesn't do that, it all stays in his head; his mouth stays shut. He doesn't need me help to read, he doesn't need me to lean on.

_He doesn't need me_


	4. holding the hand of a ghost

a/n. I'm so sorry this has taken so long *begs for forgiveness* this chapter was quite difficult to write. The story is taken a slightly darker turn now. The chapters will flit back and forth over the video plot but it should all make sense...hopefully. Prussia maybe a tad occ in this sorry about that but he is very difficult to write. Ok enough grovelling and on with the story

Holy Rome would have cried. He would have stood there and cried. West doesn't. No, he lashes out like I would have done in his position. Just like me.

West's hand around my throat is as steady as when he holds a fire arm or when he salutes a boss, whose name I neither thought worthy of learning. Holy Rome's hand never needed had to be that steady.

His grip was never honed and practised from years of battle but rather that of a terrified child clinging onto his big brother. It was that same grip that stopped me in my tracks as the drums of war called me away again or perhaps it was the tears. I still stopped.

He was just a boy; he didn't understand why I had to fight. How innocent, how young, how long? Not long enough. This is no boy who currently holds my life in his hand this is a man.

No child would have known how much pressure to apply to a person's wind pipe to choke them just enough that they were subdued but not enough to render them unconscious. Holy Rome would never have known but west does. And that frightens me more right now than the lack of air.

I can only stare up at him. It always irked me this height difference; I was always the tall one. You can't put a comforting arm around someone taller than you. West is still talking but I cannot understand him, I'm too lost in my musings.

He thinks I'm ignoring him and tightens his grip. The new unexpected pain causes me to flinch before I can supress it. A wave of some unknown emotion flashes across wests face and he lets go. His eyes are no longer that of a hardened solider but that of a frightened child.

He turns and walks away. I gasp quietly for breath massaging my throat, it'll bruise by morning. I watch as west walks away panting slightly. A tear escapes my eye.

_I'm sorry west I can't hold your hand anymore._

a/n please review your thoughts/feeling/criticism they are a great help.


	5. dripping rubies

A/n I can't even began to justify the wait so I wouldn't waste your time. Enjoy the chapter.

That night the dream comes. It always starts in that forest the dense, dark trees tangling my limbs, impeding my run but I struggle on, I have to. My baby brother is out on the battlefield, a place he should never have been.

The only soldiers he should have ever seen as those hand-carved ones I gave him last Christmas. He's smile had been worth all those cuts and bruises I'd acquired whilst making them. He should be safe at home listing to that prissy aristocrat whining to the pan wielding madwoman but he's not, he's here. A place I swore he would never be. I was the elder I fought the battles for both of us not this child.

I run faster the trees ripping at my face and arms but I care not. The roar of the battle grows nearer but quieter. It is ending; the war is in its last death throws taking down as many as it can in its last seconds. I have to find him, he has to come home. I promised.

At last the wall of trees breaks and I burst through to a sight that causes my heart to shatter.

Holy Rome is on his knees drenched in dirt and filth. Standing over him is that slimy Frenchman; a smirk dancing around his lips. He seizes the front of holy Rome robes dragging him into a standing position. He doesn't beg. He doesn't scream. He only looks to the trees he loves with sadness.

France glances over Holy Rome's shoulder and looks me in the eyes. His smirk comes to life now laughing across his face. Then with a beautiful brutality he plunges his sword into Holy Rome's chest.

He barely makes a noise as the steel tears though his skin, ripping out his life. The sword is withdrawn with a sicking squelch, its blade dripping rubies.

France winks at me before sauntering away. Only now do I move as Holy Rome thuds to the ground. Every step takes a life time till I fall to my knees at holy Rome's side. I turn him over and hold him close. The wound is fatal. We both know that.

He looks up at me with the same adoration as that day I gave him the soldiers and I fight the urge to cry. Words fail me. What can I say? No fairy tales can fix this nor a broken promise. His breath is wheezing now, his eyes glazing over. I watch helpless as the bright candles of life gutter out. His eyes dead.

I wake with a scream. Gasping for air I remember where I am. Safe in west's house. West. I have to see west. I fly out of my room running along the corridor not caring who I disturb. I stop for breath outside west's bedroom door. Gathering myself I carefully let my self in.

West is fast asleep. He is lying on his left side while his arm anchors his pillow to his head. I watch over him a while. West is so quite when he sleeps like Holy Rome, never wanting to disturb anyone unnecessarily. He's so young, a boy in a man's body.

I lift the blanket and gently re-tuck it over west's shoulder who snuggles deeper into the covers. I smile slightly. West is safe tonight. As I leave I place a small kiss on his forehead closing the door carefully behind me.

_I will not fail you again brother. This time I will protect you. Cross my heart and hope to die. _

A/n *cries* why France? *sniffle* the story should be finished in two chapters (if my readers live that long to see the story completed) please review it helps improve my writing when I can be asked.


End file.
